


build our walls, aluminum

by queerofcups



Series: Phan Bingo 2018 [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Apocalypse, Overstimulation, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 08:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16059110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerofcups/pseuds/queerofcups
Summary: There was no world before loving Dan, there'll be no world after.





	build our walls, aluminum

The end, when it comes, is bright. The end of the world-- the end of _their_ world-- came in a bath of light, and huge, metal cylinders that came from the sky, settled into the ground and took the earth as their own.

Phil remembers Dan talking about the end of the world like it was a joke, and thousands of people laughed along with him. Now, in the rubble of their flat, staring up at a figure he can only just understand, there is no laughter. 

Dan is still there. They pick both of them up, transport them into the cylinder, their _ships_. 

For a long time, they just sit in a room together, trying to put together what just happened, what’ll happen next.

It's hard to hold on to time. There are no windows, no way to tell the passage of time. There’s something about the room he and Dan sit in that causes stasis. Neither of them get hungry, or need to use the bathroom. 

If he strains to listen, Phil is certain he can hear other people, but eventually even that fades away.

They like him and Dan together. 

Time passes and the figures appear sometime. They stand in corners, silent and imposing. But they don’t stop him and Dan from touching. They touch more now, holding each other, reminding each other that the old world existed, that it wasn’t just a shared delusion. 

It’d felt like a blessing at first, to be kept together. It's easier to remember, like that. 

Eventually, a sweet smelling gas starts filling the room. It's nearly unnoticeable, faintly blue, and Phil thinks that maybe they have finally gotten tired of watching him and Dan cry and whisper to each other.

The gas makes things lighter. It makes things _funny_. Suddenly the end of the world by alien invasion and abduction is _hilarious_.

Dan starts giggling and Phil isn’t far behind. 

They laugh until their bellies hurt, and then the figures show up.

Phil laughs as they take Dan, even while he reaches, trying to drag Dan back.  
Dan’s head lolls to the side, artificial relaxation smoothing out the beginnings of worried expression on his face. A quiet, whispering language that filled Phil’s head rather than his ears. 

Dan could have been gone minutes, he could have been gone days. Phil finds himself on his back, staring up into the white nothing of the cylinder, roiling on the clouds of the gas. There’s nothing funny without Dan. He feels calm, content, but nothing more.

Dan comes back. They take Phil next.

He doesn’t remember leaving. He’s simply one place and then suddenly, he’s another. He’s on a table, staring up at a white ceiling.

There’s no pain, or even fear. He remembers the feeling of fingers, and other things on his skin. One of them leans over to look down at him and it doesn’t have a face, just the gentle impression of a mouth. This one touches his face and then he remembers--

You’re not supposed to rank things like the best sex you’ve ever had, when you’re in a long relationship. It’s bad for them, maybe, too look too fondly back on the days when you’d just met and every time you touch felt like the first time and the last time and all you wanted was more. 

But Phil knows. It was in the early days, when they were constantly shocked that they were left alone long enough to do any of the things they thought about doing to each other.

“ _More_ ,” Dan demanded, even though his belly was already slick with his own come. Phil hadn’t even slowed down, not really, just a little, to see what Dan wanted next. They’d joked about it, and they were _trying_ but Phil didn’t want to hurt him.

“Are you sure? Is it ok?” Phil tried to slow down, just to check, but Dan just shoved on Phil’s back with his ankle and glared at him. 

“Keep going,” Dan said, “Let me feel you, nearly, nearly there--”

And Phil kept going and watched Dan squirm, heard his whining, high up in his throat and he kept going until his toes curl, he’s so close and he kept going until Dan gasps and opens his eyes wide and he comes a second time, his cock twitching with weak spurts and Phil kept going until he couldn’t anymore.

When Phil opens his eyes again, back in the cylinder, they’re leaning over him, but they’re talking to each other. Phil realizes that the voices he hears in his head when they talk are for his benefit. This language is different. 

One of them touches his cock. He’s hard, the shape of his cock perfectly visible against the dusty pajamas he’d been wearing when they pulled him out of the rubble of a half collapsed building.

He wants a shower. He wants a shower, and he wants Dan, and he wants a life back that doesn’t exist anymore. 

There’s more gas, he closes his eyes, letting his wants wash away. 

They do other things. They don’t touch his cock, and eventually he goes soft again. They touch his arms, his fingertips. One of them touches his upper lip until he sneezes, and they flinch away. 

Sometimes, Phil opens his eyes and looks at them. He tries to make himself understand.

They finish doing whatever they’re doing and they take him back to Dan. He fights to stay aware for the transport from one room to the other, but he just can’t. 

Instead of a room with a white floor, ceiling and transparent walls, they take him back, somehow, to the bedroom of Phil’s first flat. The first one, before the one the shared, officially. It's just on evening and Dan is spread out across his bed, smiling over his shoulder like there’s nothing wrong in the world. There’s evening soon spread across his bare back and Phil knows what he’s supposed to say, knows exactly how this goes.

“Hey,” Phil says and walks into the room, crawls into bed. He feels younger, in ways he didn’t know he’d felt old. His hair feels shaggier, his shoulders narrower. 

“Hi,” Dan says, and when Phil looks closer, Dan is smaller, somehow. His hair is straight and the divots of his collarbone seem deeper. 

“D’you reckon I could come twice in a row?” Dan asks, yawning and stretching as he rolls over to look at Phil. 

It’s a silly thing to imagine, the kind of thing you reach for when alone time is still intoxicating and they fuck around in every room just because they can. But the thought of it shoots a thrill through Phil’s stomach. He can almost imagine it, Dan beneath him, cock gone soft and tender against his stomach, reaching for another orgasm, just to see if his body can. 

Phil blinks and for breath, he remembers. He remembers where he is, the figures that flank him, watching them curiously, the ravaged world outside. 

“C’mere,” Dan says, tugging Phil closer to kiss him, biting his bottom lip a little. “I...I think I like it. Last time, when I came…”

Dan’s blush is a lovely petal pink, the way he always goes when he talks about how fast he comes. 

Phil wraps his hands around Dan’s hips and kisses him again. He feels watched, but certainly that’s always been the case. 

“Okay,” Phil says, rolling them so he can lean over Dan to kiss him properly. “Let’s try, yeah?”

There’s something Phil’s meant to remember, but when he tries to think of what it could be, he gets distracted by the way Dan’s thighs fit around his hips. It couldn’t have mattered too much, anyway. There are tears, slowly leaking from Dan’s eyes. It's odd. He looks so happy.

The end of the world, for them, is here, in a bedroom that exists in their memories. 

Phil leans down to press a kiss against Dan’s forehead. 

“I love you,” he says. It feels unquestionable. He’s always loved Dan. There was no world before loving Dan, and there’ll be no world after.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for phandomficfests' bingo challenge (sign ups are still open!)  
> Title is adapted from The Decemberists' Sons and Daughters  
> Come say hi at queerofcups.tumblr.com


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